Origins of a Mad Meister
by yuni30
Summary: The tale of how the mad man we all have come to know as Dr. Stein came to be. How did he really fare before he attended at the academy, and how he made his presence known to Lord Death and the rest of the grim reaper's beloved school.
1. Broken and Torn

**To all who have read this story before: This is the _original_ first chapter. If you have come back to find the story has changed it is due to an error on my part in uploading the chapters. Thank you~! -.^y ~Yuni~**

On a warm summer's day, a child from a wonderful, yet slightly dangerous relationship came to be. What made the relationship dangerous was that the boy's father's family had a history of what some may have called "dementia at an early age"- or in other terms, madness. It was there but never did the trait trigger for it was more recessive than anything. The mother also carried this slight gene of madness, but, again, it was also a trait beyond triggering.

Both, not realizing that their kid would be affected by this they continued their relationship into the years of marriage and parenthood. Their silver haired baby boy would become the nightmare of their lives.

One night, when the child was but six, he wandered into his parents room. It wasn't a nightmare that awoke him; it was his own longing for something much more dreadful than any nightmare could possibly conjure. On that night, his family- whom the boy loved internally- was torn away from him.

The child had come close to killing his own parents in their sleep. He was unaware how poor his ability to cover his presence was at that time. His mother and father were very light sleepers and they heard him approaching. The father was the first to notice the kid brandishing a small paring knife in his hand to wield as a temporary scalpel and alerted his wife.

Seeing he had no room to make a clean operation, the child lunged at the two people who had helped create him with knife in hand. He was laughing madly as he did so. His body moved violently in the process of injuring his only parents. His father and mother managed to escape their only son and called the police. In the midst of the call, the psychosis stricken boy came to.

The child dropped the knife, horrified. He approached his parents with great worry. "What… did I… do?! I'm sorry," he wailed with great sincerity and sorrow. His parent's flinched away from him at this. He heard his father scream into the phone, "Hurry, he's going to kill us!" The poor kid, not knowing what exactly he had done felt a sense of dread.

Soon sirens could be heard outside the house. Men in uniform knocked in the door with guns and armed suits. They saw the six year old aggressor, his fingers and face splattered a bit from his delirious assault on his caretakers, and immediately grabbed his arms, yanking roughly to apprehend the child. He cried out in pain as they bound him in a strait jacket in a rather brutal manner. He tried to struggle, and get away from the horrible men, but they pushed him down. He looked up at his parents, fear in his eyes. He cried out, begging for his release, "Mom, don't let them take me! Why are they taking me?! Please, I don't want them to take me!" Tears poured down his face as the uniformed men picked him up like a log and carried him out the door.

The uniformed officers threw the child in the back of the van and closed the door, leaving the six year old to cry. He was confused, scared, and above all, betrayed. Why did they let those cruel men take him? What had he done to deserve this? He didn't even know what to call it- whatever had happened to him. What he did know was that it was obviously dangerous to him and other people around him.

He looked out the bars from where he sat in his straitjacket. He saw trees pass by, the moon shining in, and its mouth bloody and laughing as usual. He noted the power lines passing by as well. Soon, after watching what seemed to be a carousel of the outside world, the kid fell asleep.

He awoke to the sun. He was still inside the van. He looked back at the bars. To his dismay, there weren't any trees, and he couldn't see the ever smiling sun, though he could see the light of it. In the place of trees and the sun were buildings, flat, identical, buildings. He scowled at this. He liked living out where he could see different surroundings. He felt at peace when he did so.

He soon felt the van jolt to a stop. He fell forward, almost hitting his head on the hard floor of the vehicle. "Hey," he shouted to let the drivers know he was still back there. The child, once over this perturbing annoyance passed and the van began to move again, started humming "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" to himself. What else could he do when his hands were bound by a jacket? It kept his mind off of the mystery of where they might be taking him.

Another stop again. He had cycled through his list of kids songs known only to him about ten times by this time. He didn't feel the vehicle move again. He _did_ feel the engine cut off. He came to the conclusion that they had reached their destination.

The doors opened, causing the child to squint at the light hat flooded in. Two men in white- possibly doctors from their form of apparel- crouched into the van and yanked their captive up from his place. "Where are we? What is this place," questioned the possibly deranged child. They were silent. The boy looked from his captors and then noticed the blank windowless building in front of the estranged group.


	2. The Asylum

The men threw their prisoner into his cell. He was still bound to the straitjacket. The cell they gave him stunk of an almost indescribable odor. He brought himself to sit up, his body aching from the ferocity of their actions. He heard screams of terror and pain echoing around him. Something about that, something horrible brought the distraught youth to smile. He didn't know why he had, for it was a horrible ordeal to be in pain.

He began to mull over the past events. He wondered what exactly he had done. Then the truth, it hit him hard. He had done something horrendously wrong to end up there. He must have attacked his parents. Shock spread on the silver haired boys face, then eventually sadness. He cried again, for the second time during his venture to his horrible prison.

He cried himself to sleep, missing the embrace of his parents, the soft song from his mother at night, and most of all, his clean, soft bed.

He awoke to more of the screams and painful cries for mercy from other prisoners. He arose doggedly, the straitjacket still binding his arms to his torso. He moaned slightly, the vicious visions he had before his almost deadly assault on his parents playing before his eyes. He looked around him, noting the horrid smell of the area, coming to a solid affirmation that he was still in the prison like environment. He then saw the horrid visions reappear in his mind's eye, stronger than when he awoke.

He shook his head vigorously to shake the terrible scenes that only he could see. He had no such luck. The visions got even stronger, accompanied by a maniacal feeling of menace. To his horror, he found he enjoyed this overly destructive feeling. A grin spread across his juvenile face. A sick, twisted grin.

He ran at the bars in a frenzy, his head smashing against one. He fell back, head bloodied from the useless assault on his cage. He brought his head up, feeling the pain in his head well up. He grimaced slightly, feeling a warm substance trickle down his forehead, eventually running down his cheeks and dripping onto his white straitjacket. He saw blood. He was shocked at the feeling the internal substance that ran through his veins dripping continuously down his face. "Why did I do that…," he wondered. Then he realized it was what brought him back to reality. He felt his stomach knot up in nausea at the thought of this self-destructive remedy.

Two dark figures approached his cell. They weren't facing him. One had a dark and angry voice, that of an angry beast; the other sounded- and looked- a little more human. "I want to run some tests on my subject before I release him in your care," the human like figure said. He heard the beast, if it was a beast- could beasts talk? - reply, "When you do, try to find the source of his madness. We don't want him turning into an evil human." He thought he saw the creature's eyes when it turned a little. They were red and circular- almost points of light.

The child shivered in fear at this sight. He noticed how oddly the figure was shaped, almost like a phantom with a cartoonish body. He wondered what kind of monstrosity this phantom was. His hysteria piqued again, and he used the remedy of pain by cutting into his skin with his own teeth. He hissed in pain as the insanity vanished.

The phantom bid the human goodbye as they parted separate ways. The child wondered how it was so that a creature like that could exist. Then he thought that maybe it wasn't a phantom- but a demon cloaked in black. His young eyes narrowed at this. Demons are bad, the kid thought. They take control of you or take your soul.

He sighed to himself. He had nothing to do. He was left to his own imagination. He thought of his parents, his friends- not that he had any-, and his wrong doings. He thought of his favorite hobbies, how they included pulling things apart and looking inside them to see how they worked. What made them tick, he often wondered. What was their means for moving, working, lighting up, making sound, he thought even more so. His mind wandered on until it couldn't wander anymore- his head hurt.

The child sighed and soon sat in a dazed state, staring into oblivion. A figure approached- it wasn't the demon. Then again, demons could change form. He struggled against his straitjacket and tried to squirm into a corner. He found he was shaking with fear. He _sensed_ something. This person would more than likely bring harm to him.

The figure spoke. "You are now to be tested for your mental instability. You must come without struggle or we will have to use force." The child's eyes widened with fear. Mental instability? Was he sick in his sense of mind? He had heard of his parents talking about estranged relatives being sent away to crazy houses for being "sick". He wondered if he'd meet any of his relatives here, and how harsh a treatment they'd received.

The man opened the door and pulled the child up by the shoulders, set him on his feet and guided him away from the horrible cell. "What...," the child gulped. "Will the test be like?" He looked up at the figure, fear still etched in his face. The man made no response. He took it that the test was nothing to enjoy.

They guided the child to a room with a tub filled with water. Was this the test, he questioned himself. It didn't look so bad. To his relief, another 'doctor' removed the straitjacket. They put the child in the tub, his clothing still on. They stuck something with wires in it on his head and arms. A switch clicked. He felt immense pain course through his system. He screamed in pain. He felt his mind naturally switch to the longing for his mother.

Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face as the electricity coursed through him. His fingers twitched in response to the stimulus and his legs moved in an erratic frenzy within the confines of the straps they had placed on him. He continued to scream until his throat was sore, and then his mouth simply hung open, hoarse breathing replacing the screech. The men turned the device off, not that he could tell. His mind was completely shut out to his surroundings. His brain refused to work for a time. He was comatose.

He awoke in a bed, strapped down. He saw the ceiling. It was a blank space that seemed to have no flaw. He looked to the side and saw a man that looked fairly young writing something down on his clipboard. "What's your name," the man replied tersely. The kid thought back. He wondered if he remembered anything before he was put into that torture device. He remembered his name. Henry Williams.

He mulled over the name. It was rather unfitting for his current stature. Then a better name came to mind. It was of the book that sat on a dusty shelf in the living area of his former home. "Frankenstein" it read. He had read various notes, shortened and simplified for kids his age on the book. A monster brought to life by a scientist- who, like him, hungered to discover. He smirked at the irony of the book and his destructive tendency. He felt as if he was both the monster and the poor scientist in the book- with how _he_ was being treated.

"Franken Stein," replied Henry. "My name is now and forever will be Franken Stein." The man looked up at him in disbelief. "'Franken Stein'? You can't simply-" The man paused, seeming to remember something. The man shook his head, sighing. "'Franken' it is then... What an odd name." He looked back to his clip board and jotted something down. "So, Franken-" The man was shortly interrupted. "Please, could you call me 'Stein' instead," Franken requested. The young man looked up crossly, not liking the idea of a kid toying around with him. "Yes...," he responded rather roughly. The kid simply smirked at the man.

"So, _Stein_, why did you attack your parents? Were you angry at them," the young man asked. Stein shook his head, frowning at the memory. "I was... curious about something..." The young man cocked his head, his short brown hair shifting with it. "What exactly were you curious about, Stein?" A grimace graced the boy's features. He fought his fear down at the hysteria that had torn him from his loving family. "I think... something to do with the body... How it worked...," he flexed his fingers at the thought of what probably was the basis of his insanity.

The young man raised an eyebrow. "Why did you do that? Did you hate your parents? Were they cruel to you? Did you blame them for being picked on? Were you punished without any real reason..." The questions seemed to go on and on to the child. Eventually he snapped ferociously at his inquirer. "No! I was simply curious! I wasn't ever picked on! I was just curious! There is nothing wrong with me!" He glared at the man, irritable at all the seemingly pointless questions the man was asking. "I am perfectly fine!"

The man simply stared on in shock, then came to resolve. He jotted down a couple of more things on his clipboard. "I'll finish with you later," he assured as he rose from his seat. Stein only glared up at the man as he left. He saw him walk outside of the hospital like room. The young boy noticed the window to the outside of his room to the rest of the fortress he had been thrown into. The 'demon' had returned.

The 'demon' was talking to the young man, possibly about what he had written on his clipboard. The child shivered in fear. The man he was talking to was in cahoots with the 'demon'. He saw him jab his thumb at the window as he spoke to the 'demon'. He saw it nod at the man, then supposedly squirm off- as if it were a worm, and the top part he saw being the head.

Stein decided to lie back onto the pillow of the hospital bed. At least he had a bed. He began to dose off, finally feeling comfort in the strange place.

When he awoke, he heard a weird and slightly unnatural voice beside him. He looked to the right, the direction it came from, and noticed the face of the 'demon'. He gasped in shock and began to struggle against the restraints. "Hey, hey… Easy. I don't bite, Stein," the 'demon' reassured in an almost unreal voice.

Stein simply glared at it. He didn't buy its words. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Lord Death. I'm the grim reaper." The kid's eyes widened at the word "reaper". He was going to die? He glowered at Lord Death. He wasn't going to die there, then, not in that horrible place. Lord Death looked on at him, his head tilting slightly to the right. "Now, now… What's that scowl for," he questioned the kid's glare of resentment.

"I'm not going to die here today," the child declared angrily. The cloaked creature tilted his head in the other direction at the child's adamant attitude. "Why would you die? I'm not here to collect your soul. I'm here to explain what will probably happen regarding your stay here." Stein's face fell into disbelief. He shot back at the death god, "Why do you work with them?" He saw the creature shift and whip out of his coat a giant foam hand- one that resembled those that one would purchase at a ball game.

"Technically, I don't. I just came to check up on Death City's asylum. It's really gone downhill. I'll be closing it down and sending the kids off to a better institution without…" He paused, thinking of his next words. "'Special abilities'," he said, placing his foam hand next to his odd mask, which, to Stein's surprise, had changed shape for the occasion- the eye holes narrowed- to show his secrecy. The death god shrugged and he continued, "That also has something to do with you. But that's beside the point. You'll be undergoing more tests, then released into the care of the Academy's orphanage."

The child raised an eyebrow. "'Academy'? School," he queried. Lord Death nodded. "After a few years there, you'll get the chance to live on your own." Stein shifted uncomfortably. He also had heard "more tests". He shivered in fear, wriggling uncomfortably under his restraints. "N-not more of _those_-," he began. The reaper silenced him by quietly interjecting, "No, no… not that again…. You will be tested in a much more, how should I say, humane way. You'll get questions."

Stein looked down at the sheets. "What kind," he muttered. The robed figure tilted his head once more, making a slight noise to indicate he was thinking. "Well, it's going to be about your life before the incident that landed you here," the squeaky voiced grim reaper claimed. The child heaved a sigh. What else was in store?


	3. His New Family

Several questions were asked over the following weeks that had eventually turned to months. But the questions weren't the only tests. The boy who changed his name from Henry Williams to Franken Stein was prodded with needles to test various chemicals that could suppress the so called 'madness' within him, poked with sticks to test his anger, and forced to stay awake without food or water as to test his endurance. The chemicals- hardly were effective. The test of his anger- flared his madness a bit and nearly cost a doctor his life. His endurance- impeccable; he go on for days without sleeping, eating, or drinking and he wouldn't care.

As the months passed, the tests became less torturous and more mundane. Eventually all the young boy had to do was sit in his bed, strapped down and nearly bored to death. He would occasionally hum a tune, thinking of anything besides the ever slight numbness in his wrists and ankles when they were left still for too long. His mind would sometimes shift back to ideas he would only come across in the insanity that shrouded him, causing him to constantly bite his tongue until blood was drawn.

Lord Death reappeared one day in his room, his weird outfit still a debacle in the kid's mind as to what he truly looked like. "Hiya, Stein," the cloaked figure greeted in a very hokey manner. The child in the bed tilted his head in a slightly confused way. "So," the death god continued. "I've come visit you in order to inform you on the terms of your release from this institution." Lord Death pointed to the ceiling and let his body lean to the right as if his hand was too heavy. "I will affirm your release and then you will be escorted to an orphanage. Once there, you will be assigned a person who will watch you to make sure you don't kill anyone, okay, Stein?"

The child nodded, fully understanding the reaper. He longed to see the outside world again, for the asylum had kept him locked in and away from the windows. He would have cried tears of joy, or shouted ecstatically, but they had broken him. He was indifferent to everything an anything. Not even the screams and cries for help had an effect on him, nor the shadowy doctors that would escort him to the showers to be bathed. Even so, the world outside- the rain, the snow, the wind, the thunder, the lightning, the heat, the cold- he missed it all, and wondered what it felt like. He even wanted to feel the mud under his feet, making them filthy. All of this brought a small and almost unnoticeable smile to young Franken Stein's face.

"When will I be leaving, Lord Death," Stein queried, catching the reaper's attention. The cloaked master of terror with the strange outfit clapped his hands together and interlaced his fingers instantly upon contact. He bounced slightly back in a playful way and tilted his head "Today! A bunch of other kiddies and people are also being let out~!" He undid his fingers and slid his arms back into his side somehow, maintaining his focus on Stein. "I had to make sure that everything was ready for the others, that's why some of those tests were pointless... Y'know, the pointless questions that didn't have to do with your mental health or your past?" The child nodded at the cloaked figure.

The grim reaper unbound Stein from his bed and picked the child up with ease and set him gently on his feet. After releasing the boy from his clutches he noticed the child simply looking at the door. "Is there something wrong, Stein," the death god questioned. Franken turned around and looked up with a straight face, only letting the disbelief show in his eyes. "I'm free to go," he asked quietly, yet cautiously.

Lord Death nodded at the child. The kid began to walk toward the door, when the entity shot his hand in the air. "Wait! I have to escort you out, Stein. You can't just wander away. You could get lost... or hurt... Or the staff will catch you and put you back in here!" Franken turned to look at Lord Death with an impatient gaze. "You have to stay with me at all times." The kid nodded at the entity.

Though the reaper could have assigned someone to escort young Stein, Lord Death felt it was safer for everyone if the child was accompanied by solely him. He led Franken to the front of the institution. They stood at a desk together, the reaper's giant hand completely enveloping the child's. It made the kid feel silly as he stood in wait for Lord Death to finish the rather boring process of filling out paper work. After all of twenty minutes, the reaper led him out of the building and into the area around it.

Franken displayed a small smile as he felt the slight crunch of sand and dirt under his hospital shoes. The hot air was welcomed against his cold and pale skin from the freezing building. All sights of the outdoors were welcome to the child as well as the smell of the air. "Finally...," he whispered as he flexed his fingers and breathed in the air. He felt like it had been years since he could see the sun smile down on him, radiating its warmth.

Lord Death shook him a little and the boy looked up at the skull mask of a face. "Are you okay? You looked a little hazy there," The death god pointed out. Stein nodded, then looked back to his surroundings. The other flat buildings, to his surprise were gone. It seemed they had been leveled out or destroyed by some unexplainable force. Stein then turned to the side so he could look at the building they had just come out of. It was different as well. There were windows that spotted it here and there and an arrow like attachment to the side of what seemed to be an added section. What was once a tall and flat building now seemed lopsided in height. One side of it was noticeably shorter and the back seemed to have gained an addition to it. It now even sported a hollow patio roof complete with a worn patio itself.

"Well, ready to go~," the cheery death god asked the curious child. Stein nodded up at Lord Death and they headed away from the building that would have eventually faded from the child's memory.

* * *

The orphanage, a place where kids of many backgrounds were found parent-less and in need of someone to care for them; this is where Franken Stein found himself in the hands of the grim reaper. The entity was still with him and led him to where he was to stay. Naturally, Death had accommodated him with someone with a vibrant personality and sense of care as his roommate. He didn't allude to it though, so the boy was in the dark.

The rooms of the orphanage were clean and tidy. The halls were decorated vibrantly of flowers and artwork of various kids and smelled of sweet flowers- all of which made Stein's stomach turn. Then that same _sense_ of being, the one he had felt when he encountered the doctor who had put him in the tub and proceeded to send electricity through his veins, came to him. This time however, it wasn't laced with fear. It was laced with a calming sensation. There was someone who was going to play akey role in keeping the insanity within him at bay. But how did he know?

The two stopped at a wooden door, the number 13 above it. Lord Death knocked on the door gently. Stein was surprised to see how easy going the death god could be, let alone the care of how hard he hit the door with his giant hands. Then the door opened and who opened it was surprising even more. It was a young girl around his age with a small black eye patch over her left eye with long wavy blond hair, albeit messy, and a plain black dress. A smile graced on her lips as she saw the young boy hide slightly behind Lord Death.

"Who's this, Lord Death," she asked sweetly, addressing the giant robed figure. The boy simply peered out at her, not used to seeing any other kids his age since staying at the asylum for so long. The grim reaper motioned to Stein. "His name is Franken Stein. He'll be staying with you and Spirit for a while until someone comes along and adopts any of you or you become old enough to stay by yourselves in Death City."

Death City, so that was the name of the city behind the institution. He wondered if it had anything to do with Lord Death's name. "Hey, Franken," a sweet voice called to him, pulling him out of his curious thoughts. He looked and noticed it was the blond girl, her face with a hint of worry on it. "Are you okay?" He didn't even notice that he had walked out into her line of sight. He kept a straight face and nodded firmly. Lord Death noticed Stein's hesitance and guided the boy who was still in hospital clothes toward the room and let go of his hand.

He looked back up at Lord Death with a slightly unsure gaze. He had just become use to seeing the reaper and his weird ways and now he had to become acclimated to other kids like him? What would happen if his psychosis took over and he should end up harming them? His body began to shake slightly and he looked back at the worried looking blond girl. "Well, I'll be seein' ya! Have fun you three~," the reaper cheered over confidently as he began to leave.

Stein sprinted after Lord Death with surprising speed. "Wait," he called to the death god. The girl with the eye patch followed suit. "Franken, what are you doing," she called, breathlessly trying to catch up the young boy. He didn't respond to her, but rather the cloaked figure in question. "Don't leave me here! What would happen if I go insane?! I don't-" His sentence was cut off as soon as he followed him around the corner where a mirror was promptly placed at the other end; Lord Death was nowhere to be found.

"No... I don't want to stay here... I'll get close to them... then my insanity will peak... They'll die in my hands...," he explained sadly to himself, looking at his pale hands, slightly clenching them. "They'll die in my hands," he wailed to the sky as he fell to his knees. He put his face in his hands and his body shook of tearless sobs. A hand rested on each of his shoulders and he looked back in surprise. The blond with the eye patch was standing there along with a boy who looked slightly older than him with neatly combed red hair save for a bang sticking down in the middle, a black suit with what looked to be a cross styled bow tie around the collar, and blue eyes was standing over him as well. Assumed that was 'Spirit'.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine, Fran-" The addressed boy glowered slightly. "Call me Stein," he encouraged gruffly. The girl nodded then, "Stein... You'll be fine. Lord Death told us everything," she claimed with a smile. Something about it made him calmer. Was this what he sensed? "We'll all be fine, right, Spirit," she asked the red head. "Yeah... As long as you're around, none of us should have a problem, Marie." The name rang in Stein's head. A fitting name for a caring girl.

The blond lifted Stein to his feet with the help of the older boy. He turned to follow them back to the room they were staying in. It was pretty basic. The walls were wooden and there were a total of two bunk beds. Spirit's bedspread was green, while Marie's had a floral print that made the gray headed youth cringe; his was a basic white. He slept right above Marie which he dreaded due to the floral scent that drifted up to his bunk.

Marie sat down on her bed and looked at the gray headed boy. "So, where do you come from, Dr. Stein," she joked playfully. "_Doctor_?" Stein tilted his head, his large green eyes studying her. 'She's so vibrant... It's kind of weird.' he thought to himself. She nodded energetically. "Well obviously someone like you would be called that. You like to tear things apart and study them. And just what kind of name is Franken Stein, anyway?! It sounds like a damned horror novel," the red head interjected rudely.

"Now, Spirit! What if I critiqued your name like that! You would be insulted," Marie scolded the red head. Spirit cringed noticeably. "Actually, his deduction's correct. The name is false and it came from a horror novel by Mary Shelley. Destruction of self... It's an apt name for me, wouldn't you say," answered Stein in a bored fashion. His declaration obviously struck both of the other kids' curiosity on who he was. They, mostly Spirit, prodded questions on where he was born and who he use to be.

"It's none of your business! Leave me alone! Just leave me alone," he screamed at the two. He scurried up to his bunk, covered his head with his pillow, and hid under the sheets. Spirit and Marie could hear muttered curses emit from the disturbed youth. Then they noted the quivering of the sheets, a tell tale sign of stress, frustration, and sadness. Marie looked down guiltily while Spirit shook his head.

"He's worse than Lord Death had described," Spirit commented bluntly. Marie spun on the toe of her feet and glared at the older red headed boy. "Can you blame him, Spirit? He just came from an asylum! They probably overloaded the poor guy with thousands of questions about his past!" At the mention of this, the sheets stopped quivering and Stein peaked out a little from under his pillow at the blond. 'She's defending me?' He saw Spirit shrug and glare at Marie. "Honestly, how can we trust him if he won't even tell us where he's from?"

Her voice rose to a frustrated note. She stomped her right foot in anger. "How could you ask such a question, Spirit?! You barely know him. He barely knows you. Do you honestly think for a second that he would immediately _trust_ us? He was torn away from his family; things like that take time to heal." A smile crept up little Stein's face as he watched secretly from under the covers. She reminded him of his mother at one point and time- loving, fierce, and protective. He could easily say he was fond of Marie's ability to care for people so diligently, even when she barely knew them.

Spirit backed away defensively and lifted his hands in front of him. "Okay, sorry," he wined pitifully. Stein noticed Marie turning to face his bunk and hid his face under the covers again. "Are you alright, Stein?" He didn't answer. He heard her sigh and crawl into her bed.

* * *

Weeks passed by and the three grew closer as what Stein termed acquaintances. He dare not relate them to friends so he could lessen the burden of feeling the slightest bit sorry for harming them in any way. He found them interesting in they way they treated him, however. They were like his older siblings and he constantly reminded himself that they were only acquaintances. They could never be truly connected to each other.

During some of the nights he stayed over at the orphanage, Marie heard him crying. She didn't know whether it was his insanity or his memories of his family before ending up in the asylum. She was unsure if she could ask him. After another day or so, she found the courage to bring up the subject.

"Stein, why do you cry at night," she asked over lunch. The gray headed, nearly seven year old looked up abruptly from his plate at this surprise query. The broccoli he was about to eat fell off his fork in shock as well, earning him a grin instead of a small smile from the girl in front of him. "I cry because of the nightmares... I cry because of everyone around me... No, that's wrong. I cry for everyone around me." This shocked Marie somewhat. "_For_ everyone," she asked to clarify. The boy nodded. "Yes. Because if I can't contain the nightmares, they'll take over me and everyone could end up in danger. I am a monster." He looked down, his teeth clenched into something akin to a grin.

Marie placed a hand on his shoulder with a worried expression on her face. She shook him slightly to gain his attention again. "You shouldn't say things like that about your-" Stein cut her off, "It's the truth. The insanity..." He gritted his teeth suddenly into a maniacal grin, his eyes completely widened. He stood up so quickly that the chair flipped over, causing a fear filled gasp erupt from the blond across the table. "You're going to die," he declared as he picked up the fork from his plate and made a move to stab Marie. The girl dodged to his surprise, and grabbed his wrist and tightened her grip. He could hear the unmistakable noise of bones cracking and the feeling of pain.

The pain brought back the silver haired boy from the depths of his mind. "You can let go, now, Marie." She released him once she heard this. Even with the sprained wrist the boy kept an indifferent face. The blond stared in wonder at how he wasn't crying over the damage she had inflicted on him in defense. All she could do was stare and blink. Finally, she choked out a suggestion, "Do you need to... to see a nurse...?"

The slightly shorter boy across from her snapped up his head, which was over the wrist assessing the damage with large olive eyes. His expression went from indifferent to cross in a heartbeat; she could almost hear the angry growl that threatened to escape the nearly seven year old's throat. "No. Just get some cloth a stick and a bag of ice," he listed, desperately trying to keep his anger contained. Marie raised the one completely visible eye brow at the boy in concern. "It's better if a doctor or a nurse looked at it."

Stein glared and picked up his plate with his good hand and stormed away. He wasn't about to fall into the hands of a doctor again. He had already seen his fair share of them. "I will be my own doctor," he thought aloud as he threw the remains of his lunch into the trash and placed the plate on the counter for the staff to clean. "I won't let any other doctor touch me."

That night, he managed to rest with an untreated wrist. It was discomforting, yet, he could manage to sleep through the throbbing pain. His room mates watched him with careful eyes. "What happened, Marie? Did he trip on something," the ginger headed boy questioned the blond. "No, he... he went mad for a little bit-" She stopped suddenly as the ginger headed kid grabbed her shoulders and stared her dead in the eye. "Did he hurt you?!" The blond shook her head, her hair bouncing playfully to the side. "No. I stopped him by grabbing his wrist. I think I broke it. I didn't mean to..."

Spirit let go of her and turned his back on his longtime friend and room mate. After a long and uncomfortable moment of silence between them, the ginger finally spoke, "You should have said something, Marie. What if you can't stop him next time?" There was silence. "Well Marie? You should have said something to one of the adu-" He was cut off by a very adamant voice. "And tell them what? Lord Death put us in charge of Stein. We're supposed to keep him in check for now! We're older than him! He's six, I'm eight, and you're nine. We have no choice but to take responsibility for his actions, Spirit!"

The red head in question turned around swiftly to face Marie. "We're not his parents, Marie." Marie spat back, "But for now, we should at least try to guide him like parents would." The red head simply scowled and made no remark. He didn't know how to react. Maybe he could accept Stein into their little group- their family- but that would put all of them in danger. How were they to manage living with the insane six year old? To Spirit, the answer was simple, not to; to Marie the answer was also simple, to care.


	4. The Truth of Friendship

Months went by and the three became closer, though Spirit had often begrudged the youngest of their little group due to the child's almost random episodes of insanity. The red head's negativity towards Stein was more out of fear. He didn't want Marie or himself to become the next victim on the mentally unstable child's list- it contained mostly squirrels, small birds, and the nearest person to him.

Marie herself seemed delusional to the older boy. She talked to Stein like he was pretty much normal. And what scared him more, she would _hug_ the gray headed child without any concern that he could have smuggled in a kitchen knife from the cafeteria; Spirit had seen the blade poking out from under Stein's pillow, but was to afraid to tell anyone for the seven year old had a rather unnatural knowledge of what went on when he wasn't around to see it.

There was a set schedule for the group and each one dreaded one of the planned activities of the day: adoption meetings. While other kids looked eagerly forward to the adoptions, the three of them dreaded it. It meant their little family would be torn apart. They had learned to stick with each other as if they were blood. They were all the family they had.

Each day, three kids were called, and sometimes one would stay. Sometimes it was two, but rarely was it three. If the one or two kids left were lucky, they weren't that attached and wouldn't break down. If they weren't, one of them would certainly collapse into tears and the other would be sober, almost consulting the other through the grief. The child that left would look back with unshed tears. That horrid image became truth one day to the two of their group.

On that day they were brought to a small circle made up of a few good sized rocks in the center of the court yard of the orphanage with a large crystal in the middle where a small flower grew perpetually on the top. _"It's said the flower represents friendship. Yes, friendship."_ The seven year old heard the oldest say. _"Friendship is fragile, Stein. But there are some friendships that can never end." _The blond had told him that in addition to Spirit's given knowledge of the symbol. "What does that mean? I still don't understand," he questioned himself under his breath. He didn't want to ask, it was better to find out himself, or at least, that's what someone would probably tell him.

On the other side of the circle, near the entrance of the orphanage, was a group of adults who eagerly awaited to choose someone from the large mass of kids to take home and raise as their own child. The child however, would probably never be one of them by blood, but would still live under the same roof and by the same rules as the parent. When one looked to the side of the room, there were three doors, one for each group of to be parents to take one of the children in for their own interview. The parents would choose the child accordingly to the three to go on that date.

A man who worked at the orphanage would call out the names and the children would step forward. The rest of the kids would go back to their rooms to relax or to the library to read a book. The man stepped forward with a stack of papers that were the schedule for the adoption meetings. He called out, "Spirit Albarn, Marie Mjolnir, and Franken Stein, please step forward." There was a mass of silent laughter after Spirit's name was called for his well seen naivety and a gasp at Stein's for he was already the most feared in the orphanage from the gruesome sight of dead squirrels near by the child and often blood stained clothes seen during playtime.

Stein tentatively stepped forward, unsure of what he should do. He didn't want to leave the safety of Marie's calming demeanor, and he bit his lip as he looked to his left where Marie stood. She caught his gaze and gave him a reassuring wink of encouragement. His face must have been perplexed for she harshly whispered at him, "Don't worry, Stein. Just think of me or... or something pretty and you'll be fine!" He frowned. That probably wouldn't help much. She wouldn't be there, so it wouldn't be the same. And something pretty? He was sure his idea of "pretty" was far different than her idea.

The adults walked forward and selected the kids that they had signed up to speak with. Marie got a happy looking couple, the wife already looking as if she were expecting a child. It brought Stein to wonder if they needed someone like an older sibling for the kid. They had chosen well, in Stein's mind, but it also meant something darker to him.

The person Spirit got was a middle aged woman with a kind face. She had slight graying hair and tan skin from possibly working in the sun too much. The only reason Stein could think of from his research in the library was that the lady just wanted a son. He shrugged it off as he looked at his possible future parents. They looked rather disappointed with him already, and that was a good thing for Stein. He wouldn't want to be dragged away from another home. "Let's get on with the interview, we don't have any time to stall," the man around his thirties scolded, casting an annoyed look at Stein. The child nodded and they began to enter through the middle door and into the room.

The room had three chairs, one in front of the door and two behind the table. The two adults sat behind the table, of course, and the young boy sat in front. They sat in silence for a few moments and stared. Finally, the women spoke, "So, what do you like to do as a hobby?" The seven year old hesitated. People didn't like to tear things apart that contained flesh and blood, _normal_ people that is. _Say "Dissection"_ a small voice in the back of his head chimed.

"I like to dissect," he stated almost too factually. The couple exchanged horrified glances. "'Dissect'," they both exclaimed in horror. _Why did you tell me to say that, idiot?!_ He screamed to the voice. _Hey, you listened to _me_. Also, you don't want to leave your friends, do you?_ The voice responded. "Yes... I said 'dissect'. I like looking at how things work. I like looking at what makes them tick."

He could tell by the fear they gave off that whenever they swallowed, they swallowed hard. He could see their throats struggle down the saliva. "Is there any other hobby y-you like to do," the man questioned in a neutral toned voice, though filled with fear. Stein nodded. "Yes, I like to study biology..." He looked up at their frightened expressions and smirked almost evilly. "In a book of course." They relaxed somewhat.

The woman asked while her partner shook his hands frantically in front of him, "Do you have any favorite bed time stories?" There was a dramatic covering of the eyes from said partner, which caught Stein's attention. "Not really. A friend of mine at the orphanage likes to sing before she falls asleep. It's nice. Helps my nightmares stay at bay," he mused. He then continued in a cold monotonous voice, steadily leaning on the table with his elbows, his hands pressed to his cheeks, "I did a little bit of an investigation in the adoption process. They didn't inform you of my mental stability; now I see that was mostly for nothing. I can tell by your reactions to my hobby."

They blinked, both of their eyebrows knit and raised in shock. "Are- are you saying you're insane," the man yelped. The boy couldn't help but nod. "I'm insane. It's how I got here. I have madness etched into me and it will haunt me and those who see its effects forever more." The couple witnessed his smirk grow into a devilish grin. He was only toying with them, while in his mind he was keeping the hysteria down with questions on "what was _really _and _truly _pretty".

* * *

After the interview, he sat outside with the others of his group to hear the verdict of their futures. He sat near the door of the adults that had chosen him. He could hear the arguments from the staff and the couple on how Stein's behavior really was. This was the second time. The first time their little group remained unscathed, mostly because one of the parents had to reschedule and the other had disapproved of a certain ginger's ridiculous behavior. No one had shown up for Stein.

"Hey, Stein," Marie called from down the hall. The lights were slightly dimmer than the rest of the orphanage in that section. His head snapped up at the voice of one of his dear friends. "Yes, Marie?" She cast her kind smile at him, her eyes flickering with slight worry but also slight hope. "How did things go? Did they like you," she asked in a sickly sweet fashion that the shorter boy didn't understand. _Why is she asking that? Wasn't the whole objective to _not _get adopted?_ The disturbed boy asked himself. "I-I think they're scared of me… I don't know- I think I'm not getting adopted. But that's a good thing, right?" He stared at her with a confused look with a weak smile.

The look he received from her was strange. She raised an eyebrow with a serious face. "No… You're suppose to get adopted, Stein. When you're adopted, it means that someone is giving you a second chance." The child pulled on his tangled gray hair in frustration and shook his head vigorously. He let out a growl of frustration. Right when he was about to snap from the stress of trying to figure out the logic of his friend, a hand found its perch on Stein's shoulder. "Stein, will you come with me, please," an unfamiliar voice commanded. He jerked his head up in the direction of the voice to meet the gaze of a young woman.

Stein got up and allowed her to steer him away from the group of kids. She led him to another office down the hall and sat him in a chair in front of a desk with fake flowers placed in a vase on it. She sat behind the desk in a very scrawny looking office chair in a strange fashion; she sat backwards. He looked up at the brunette slowly. "Stein, we're not pleased with what we've heard," was the first thing she said. "You terrorized the people who could have been your new family. Why?" Stein looked down again. "I didn't want to leave my friends." The woman sighed softly and clicked her tongue. She turned her head to the side.

"Stein, you won't always be with your friends. Sometimes the best you can do is remember them." She shook her head and looked down at the mess of paper work on her desk. She seemed to be ringing her hands. "Now, Stein, the people that interviewed you today said they won't adopt you because of your insanity. They say you were kind of… horrific." Stein nodded silently as she continued, "You need to get control of your insanity, Stein. You must or you'll lose something important."

The child's head snapped up suddenly. "What would I lose," he asked frantically. The woman pulled her round glasses off shortly to clean them with the tail of her shirt and sighed. "You're too young to know yet, but you have to promise me you'll try." The child nodded in silent agreement. She propelled herself from around the desk with her hands, rolling slightly backwards. "Let's get you back to your friends." She looked at him with a vibrant smile while rolling backwards at a brisk speed. Unfortunately, she fell over the door jam with a thud and a groan, thankfully only wearing a blouse and a pair of dress pants. Her blunder earned her a slight chuckle from the olive eyed boy in the office.

As she got up and patted herself off, she moved the dark green chair out of the way for Stein to get by. As soon as he was out of the office, he sprinted down the hallway. He barely heard the woman get back on her chair in her odd style and soon found that he was neck and neck with her. "What's your hurry?" Stein ignored her as he continued to sprint, skidding to a halt when he saw his two friends standing next to the pair of adults that had selected them. He looked on at them, hoping that his fears weren't true.

Marie turned to face him with her kind smile. She walked up to the boy and grinned while holding out her hand. "They liked me, Stein. They're going to give me a permanent place to call home." Stein looked at her with his usual straight faced expression, but his eyes displayed the hurt he felt. He shook her hand and was pulled into an awkward hug. "Remember what I said, Stein. There are some friendships that can never die," she whispered in his ear. As she pulled away from the hug and began to leave, she waved back at the lost grey headed boy. He let his hands curl into fists and his nails bite into his skin.

He looked to Spirit in wonder. "She liked you, too?" The oldest nodded gravely. Stein looked to his right and sighed roughly. "I see." Spirit nodded and reached out his hand to grasp the younger boy's shoulder. "Hey, man. You'll be alright. Just try to keep a lid on it." The child nodded and tried to smile, but failed. "Bye, Spirit." The red head waved goodbye in response as his new guardian walked off with him.

Eventually, it was just Stein standing in the hallway alone. He didn't know what to do and sat on the bench next to the office the quarreling people were in. He didn't want to destroy anything, so all he could do was cry. He sat there, silent sobs emitting from his small frame. The sound of an office chair rolling down the hall caught his attention. He looked down the hall and noticed the woman from before. She skidded to a stop and found herself on the floor again in front of the small child. "Hey, dinner." She got up and patted herself off and examined the kid. "Franken, c'mon. You'll see them again one day," she reassured, placing a hand on his shoulder. He sniffed and looked up at her. "Let's get something to eat."

After she had guided him the lunch room and he had crawled into his bed, he thought of Spirit and Marie. He looked over to Spirit's bunk and peered down at Marie's. He could still see her slightly annoyed face when she had gotten his hair to look neat after a matter of minutes and it took him a matter of seconds to tangle. He could still see Spirit's disapproving gaze as he looked at the mess that the youngest would make after tearing apart a squirrel at play time. He could still hear the kind hearted blonde's soft voice singing to herself before falling asleep.

All the memories brought tears to his eyes and he cried himself to sleep, clinging onto his pillow with a deadly grip. That night was the first night in many he had nightmares. That night was the night, his mind began to unravel again.


End file.
